Me, My Boobs, and I

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“Flatty24” was my first AIM screen name. I chose it because when I was 13, my washboard chest had earned me a widely used and less-than-delightful classroom appellation, with a rude last name to match: Flatty Pancakes, at your service! At least when I was tormented in the hallways, I could close my eyes and think of breakfast. I decided to reclaim that shitty nickname to send up the misspelled, appearance-based internet identities of my female classmates, striking a blow against the adolescent “sexeycutey1990”s and “luvelychik69”s that ran rampant on the World Wide Web in the early 2000s. However, outside of making a jokey chat handle about my flat-chestedness (I believe that this practice is commonly referred to as “OWNING IT”), I really didn’t care much about my lack of a bust. If anything, I was reluctant to have Victoria’s Secret whispered tantalizingly to each of my nipples in place of my unfussy and decidedly less mysterious white undershirts. The tit fairy felt differently, though, and I woke up with D cups one morning in the middle of the eighth grade. I gloatingly kept the screen name, OF COURSE, but despite the delightful irony in literally outgrowing my derogatory nickname, I wasn’t thrilled about my newfound buxomness.

I had my 14th birthday party at Hooters. I know, WHAT? This was appropriate in one obvious, metaphorical way, but entirely NOT in every real one, and so I found myself picking at chicken wings while awkwardly shifting my eyes downward all night. My slightly older friends had decided that having my party there would be a funny surprise, the grand finale of which was when the waitstaff shoved me onto a table in front of a birthday cake and scores of receding-hairlined men in polo shirts. These dudes, many of whom had young sons with them, serenaded me creepily as the waitresses tried to get me to bounce along with their wiggle-heavy “dance” moves. I was wearing a white muscle tank, a tiny plaid skirt, and Doc Martens, a uniform that has remained largely unchanged over the past six years despite how profoundly uncomfortable I felt in it that day. I wished to God that I had only had the divine foresight to wear six sweaters, a Mama Cass muumuu, then another three sweaters and a trench coat on top of that. The only way I could have felt more objectified is if I’d been wearing the orange wedgie shorts and Seinfeld-esque white sneaker/sock combination of my similarly stacked torturers. I stood there, grimacing and bounce free, for what seemed like another 14 years before they finally let me dismount and slink back to my table.

The Hooters debacle was just one of many incidents that year that made me feel strange about graduating with top honors from the undershirts to which I once clung. The transformation of my body changed the way I carried myself, as well. For the first time, boys began finding me attractive, and I had no idea how to react to this newfound attention. I wondered, should I dress more demurely, like in the outfit I had so desperately wished for at Hooters, or embrace the slinky five-for-$20 Wet Seal camisoles that were de rigueur at the time? I had no idea what clothes would be the most appropriate for my changed body, LET ALONE how to graciously handle the awe of my former teasers. I knew that most of these boys were fascinated only by my curves and not the more established parts of me that I had any control over, like my politics or taste or obsessive interest in additions to the New Fiction shelf at the library. While I resented this, there was something undeniably intoxicating about being the center of lusty attention after passed over for so long. So when some jackhole posted “whoah…Amy…you’re tits…what happened” on a MySpace photo of that awful birthday party, it was really hard not to be flattered that someone had noticed my body without comparing it to breakfast food. Even though I understood on a logical level that the remark really wasn’t a positive one and that it was actually invasive and inappropriate, it did weird things to my self-worth that I continue to struggle with the meaning of today. One element of that boorish comment has always been entirely clear to me, though. Its underlying message can be found in its misplaced apostrophe: “you are tits,” and nothing more. This is clearly not a compliment, as much as I wanted it to be.

This idea of my identity as a disembodied, floating pair of mammary glands has been repeated to me plenty of times over the years. I’m sure you know the feeling—we’re all forced to hear unasked-for perspectives on the size of our breasts A TON, in all different settings. Your life, like mine, is probably full of people (mostly cisgendered hetero men) who don’t have to deal with the same kinds of body-policing, catcalling, and all the other ways that people can make you feel like your various appendages are up for casual conversation as much as, say, the weather. Harassment can and does happen just about anywhere, even in the places you least expect it. Recently, I was attending a rally associated with the Occupy Wall Street protests with two female classmates. While there, we happened to run into a guy I knew. Since this person had made me uncomfortable by constantly talking about my chest and its rotundity before, I tried to steer clear of him, but one of my friends immediately absorbed him into our conversation. After a few minutes, the three of them shifted their collective focus to my chest, telling me that it provided a “really good distraction” from the cause that we were ostensibly all there to support. Then they said that I should cover it up with a sweater, even though I already had on a jacket, which I pulled tighter over my tank top as they continued to chat about my body parts. Their tone was friendly, but how insane is it to have someone undermine your support for a sociopolitical cause with an analysis of your tits? Especially at a protest known for its progressive ideals? I started to think that maybe I should have just stuck to SlutWalk instead—there, no one would have told me to put on a sweater.

Despite these constant, despicably wack overtures, I feel pretty good about my boobs nowadays. I realized a few years back that no matter how inappropriately people want to sexualize them, they’re mine to do with what I wish. I enjoy them. And it’s important to note that the guy who first popularized “Flatty Pancakes” wound up getting a purely cosmetic nose job during our senior year, which he thought would cure the fact that no one would date him. It didn’t, of course, and he’s stuck with his sexual insecurities while I’m totally cool with how my body looks.

Listen: there will always, always be people who harass you in the lunchroom or on public transit or where have you. This is not OK, in fact it sucks, and I recommend that you visit the Hollaback! website for some ideas on countering it when it does happen. But the people who say rude shit to you or ogle you inappropriately do not own your body; it’s all yours. When it comes down to it, they’re YOUR tits. Not YOU’RE tits. Love them forever (I promise to, too). ♦

Oh god, I loved this post so much. I am currently completely flat chested and it is always hilarious when my friends are talking about their bra sizes and I’m just like “dude, I don’t even wear one.”
Flower x

Honestly, both of my middle school ex-best friends were EXTREMELY busty, and even though I loved ’em, they always made fun of my barely-B-cup boobs. Whenever we’d go shopping they’d bar me from buying different dresses and saying it would look better on them because they could fill it out. Thanks for writing this, reminds me why I dumped them in the first place, ha.

YES! I’m in eighth grade at the moment and I have issues like that from one of my really close friends. Once, a boy commented that i had really pretty eyes, and she responded, “yeah, too bad about the whole steamrolled-chest situation.” Then asked him for his number. *facepalm*

ugh! I’m so glad someone did a post on this. The boys at my school are total pervs, and two girls were even felt up by some boys whilst asleep (knocked out, drunk) at a party which is absolutely disgusting…I think so frikin strongly about this subject. This post was really well written- and I hope what happened to you happens to me! :D

I know! I don’t know why they don’t report them. I guess the girls at my school are really assiez vous and vunerable. And having a very pretty sister in those boys class at school makes me even more furious and protective about it. Have to say again, I loved this article!

Ugh this is so good I can’t even! I currently wear a size 32F bra and my boobs also grew practically overnight from a B-cup when I was 14 XD

I often feel like there isn’t a lot of advice for girls who are particularly busty. Reading in teen magazines and advice forums, the general response seems to be along the lines of ‘I thought all girls wanted big boobs? Appreciate what you have GAH!’

But truthfully, at a time where you’re more self conscious than ever, suddenly having these things draw you so much attention can be positively terrifying, so I’m really grateful for this article and Rookie <3 love you guys long time! :D

I adore this article so much.I’m busty and when I was in 5th grade my best friend Shana would get mad at me for my cup size.She didn’t wear a bra and our conflicts revolved around whose boob were bigger.We always laughed about it in the end.Mine grew over night,too.One day wash-board next day …..not…..wash-board?
I love this.
There YOUR tits not YOU’RE tits<—— literally the best thing ever .

Great article!My boobs started growing when I was 8 or 9… now, at 27 years old, I wear a british 28HH, UK size – not sure of the correspondent US size. I think it would be really cool to have an article on Rookie talking about correct bra sizes. It might sound silly, but for busty girls having a correctly fitted bra makes a huge difference: I spent most of my life with terrible back ache and painful red marks on my shoulders from badly fitting bras, thinking I was a total freak… until one day I found out that the problem were the companies that keep pushing girls into 34Ds when they should be wearing 28HHs, like me. I’m looking at you, Victoria’s Secret.

The huge majority of women I know are wearing the wrong bra size, but fortunately there are some awesome ladies trying to change that, like Georgina from and Brittany from . They provide fitting info and links to great bra companies that actually cater to diverse body types.

Honestly, finding decently sized bras made a world of difference for my body image and self esteem. I just wish I had realized that my boobs weren’t the problem earlier. It would have saved me a lot of pain as a teen.

Gah I love this. I too have pretty big boobs…though the only people who ever comment on them are other girls, who mostly say things like “damn where did you get those things?!?!” for which I am profoundly grateful. Of course, I’m sure being homeschooled has a lot to do with it since I’m not around hundreds of teenage boys every day.

It’s nice to have an article like this on Rookie because people are always like “oh my awkward stage when I was flat-chested” and while that’s great, there are a lot of girls who’s awkward stage included huge boobs that they weren’t prepared for. Like Georgia Nicholson. :D

Oh, Gosh! I love it so much!
I often feel myself as thin as a board, because I am really thin, and it means that I have no boobs. I eat, and eat, and eat, and I try to gain some weight, but I’m still more than 10 pounds underweight and I CAN’T CHANGE IT, WHY? I don’t know what’s wrong with body. I lost 10 pounds in December/January (I don’t know how I did it), and until now, I only managed to recover about six pounds.
I know I gotta accept myself, but I don’t feel I’m healthy neither pretty, so I go try to gain weight until I get it. :)

I’ve had the same issue my whole life. At 25 now, I’ve given up on the idea that I’m some kind of really late bloomer and have accepted my flat chest (24AA). I do still sometimes feel like I’m just too small and flat and angular to be attractive, but most of the time now, I like the way I look. Being friends with another flat-chested person who is totally confident about their appearance kind of helped that process, I think. And wearing things I like, whether because they’re comfortable and I don’t have to wear a bra with them or pretty or flattering or just fun/weird in some way I like. I realize that I can look good/cute wearing all kinds of things that might look funny on a normally proportioned person and enjoy playing with that. As my boyfriend put it one time, it’s sexy when someone pulls off something that’d be expected to look silly or weird. I hope you embrace your appearance whether you gain weight/boobs or not. You may want to talk to a doctor or nutritionist though, if you’re worried about it and don’t feel well.

I completely feel this subject. I had DD’s all of a sudden and it really was the worst. Girls would start rumors that I had a boob job (in 8th grade….? What?) and guys would feel free to grab at me “jokingly”. Older men would hit on me, when I was ridiculously underage. Most of my friends were really cool about it though, even if they never understood how much my big boobs bothered me.

I ended up getting a reduction in the summer before senior year though, and it was THE best thing that ever happened to me. Life-changing seriously, because now that I have (fairly generous) C’s I feel like my body looks normal and proportional. I had an advantage because my mother, who worked as a medical photographer for a plastic surgeon, had seen many older/old women get them, and she always heard that they wished they had done it sooner. So she was very very supportive and my father was generous enough to not even comment on the cost. AND surprise surprise, I got a ton more positive attention when I was comfortable in my own skin!

I carry a 34D cup and being politically active I’ve grown so tired of people telling me “you should come to the meeting wearing a white tank top with a black bra, and if it gets tough, just jump up and down until we’re through” you wouldn’t imagine. but the worst thing for me is when girls tell you “you can’t wear this low-cut dress because it’s too provocative”, or “that shirt on you looks a bit vulgar”. oh, and people telling you that you should be thankful when someone talks about your tits uninvitedly.

I love this so much! People used to make fun of me for being flat-chested and now I’m a C cup (compared to the rest of my petite body, they look HUGE). I’m so glad someone else understands!! Quote from a guy in 8th grade, “Damn Lily, when did your tits get so big?!”

I needed this. I’ve always been heavy chested, wearing a bra at age 9 WAY before my friends even glanced at one in a store, and then they just kept on growing… by 8th grade my boobs were larger than my Mom’s… at 17 I thought I was done, having maintained a C since for a while but this past month they’ve been flying out of my favorite bra… I’m still not looking forward to shopping for D cups, but this has made me a little more confident!! Thank you!

Sharing your experience at the Occupy movement was a complete YES! I love the way you expressed your ideas about that conversation which centered around your body. Now… can we please have someone talk about what its like to be at the opposite end of the spectrum? Someone who remained flatty4ever?

My best friend and I are in college, and are both a 34A. Her boyfriend was SHOCKED when she said she didn’t want bigger boobs. I was kind of offended, she just kindly explained. I don’t want bigger boobs. Like I’d probably be fine with myself if I did (except maybe if I was sexually harassed all the time for it, in which case, perhaps having great comebacks would be fun, if tiring). I think part of why I don’t really worry about having small ones is that I realize how much more many bigger-chested ladies have to deal with (literally and physically).

One of my friends in high school was pretty big-chested. This wasn’t any source of envy between us, and was only discussed when shopping and she had the frustration of tops sometimes not fitting properly.
Idk. I think the best bet for everyone, is like what Emma D said, we’re not a walking set of tits, big or small.

What’s the best thing we can do? In my opinion? Not gossip about other people’s body shape, size, color, or shade. I HATE it when people around me are doing this. I do not care about those things. I think there are SO MANY KINDS OF BEAUTIFUL and I don’t understand why everyone else has to be so goddamn picky. And I point this out if someone else starts picking at how someone looks. Maybe I’m on some kind of high horse, but that sort of thing doesn’t cross my mind when I look at a person.

I think once you start accepting everyone elses’ kind of beautiful you realize that you fit in that definition too.

Wow! I love this. There has been many a Thanksgiving where I am waiting for a comment to come about my breast, happened almost every year. For me it my surprise Boobs came in 10th grade. I didn’t notice until swim season. Then I was reminded daily. I needed this then!!

ugh, I’m almost 16 now and had Dcup boobs since year 6- guys call out to me in the streets “nice tits” so now I’ve taken to wearing crazy modest clothes and sports bras all the time to make me appear less busty
damn

ugh. i have pretty big tits for a fourteen year old. and one day during lunch, my (male) friend used the phrase 36DD in a totally non-boob related way. i misinterpreted it and immediately blurted out “wait, how do you know my bra size?”

omg can I just say, this seems to be the story of my life. Well, my boob’s life.

I was always chubby as a kid, and pre teen, so when all that childish fat seems to congregate on my chest in a few weeks … well, I freaked out a little. And got some impressive stretch marks! I was a 10C (these are Australian sizes…(according to the internet, 32C in America?) ) when I was 12 at my first fitting, and then jumped to 12D (34D?) when I was 13, and now, after finding a ‘revolutionary bra shop’ (my mum’s words), I am now very comfortable in a 10E (32DDD/E?).

I love my boobs, but they’re the only thing(s) I ever get complimented on. So many guys and gals have come up to me and complimented me on them, but I have never been kissed or had a guy show interest in anything beyond my chest.

Also, whenever I gain or lose the slightest bit if weight, it comes off my chest / goes to my chest. Not my waist or thighs. urgh.

I’m 16 years old, and I’m still flat-chested. This story reminds me of something that happened today. My friends (both boys and girls) are all really chill with each other(no relationships with one another) and today some of us were going to go to a girl’s house to do “water trampoline”. Basically we all jump in bathing suits on the trampoline while the hose is on and it’s super fun. However, the one guy friend was joking in good nature with another guy that he was going to hang out with half-naked girls that afternoon. The douche guy responded “Yeah but all of your friends are flat-chested”. :\ I’m not so much as hurt as insulted. THERE ARE SO MUCH MORE TO GIRLS THAN THEIR TITS.

Thank you. One hundred times, thank you. I’m a girl who does not relate to most girls, so almost all of my friends are guys – and, in the effort to be ‘just another one of the guys’, my body has turned to a topic of conversation many times. 34D bust, very small waist, somehow equals a conversation topic almost every time a large group hangs out. I’ve acted like I’m fine with it, even when that’s not the case. In addition, I had to deal with my conservative parents telling me for years that I shouldn’t wear this or that because it’s too tight, or might show a hint of cleavage. So thank you for bringing this to light and starting a dialogue about it.

god, i hate that. and the clothing issue… i’ve just learned to roll with it. i love my body and i love my cleavage but i hated how i couldn’t wear the clothes my friends did because i was so curvy. now i’m just like “fuck it, i do what i want and what i want is pretty lace lingerie and low cut tops!”

i can totally relate to this article, and i am so glad that i’m not the only one who sometimes gets fed up with having a big chest.
boys can be so ignorant when they assume random comments on breasts are somehow flattering.

Thank you so much for that link!!! I am frequently harassed when i walk down the street or go out for my runs (once i even had a car follow me while i was running). My friends reactions have all been,”well you should take it as a compliment”, or “its not a big deal”. but it’s not a complement and to me, yeah, it’s kinda a big deal. I don’t feel comfortable running on the roads near my house alone anymore, but that website reminded me that its not my fault. So thank you so so so much for that! :)

boobs are amazing and we should all appreciate them. seriously, guys get to be major boob enthusiasts but us girls are encouraged to hate one of the most fun parts of our bodies! big tits, small tits, medium tits… they’re all great and fun and lovely and we should all enjoy them.

i find it disturbing how in our society, women are encouraged to hate their bodies while simultaneously being told that’s the only important thing about them. i say, fuck the system! love your body and your brain! never ask permission to love yourself!

love your boobs! love your ass! love the way you look! if you want to show it off, show it off! if you don’t, never feel like you have to!

i don’t think appreciating the more physical side of womanhood and believing women are way more than a pair of tits are mutually exclusive. i love my breasts, but they don’t define me. i love corsets and miniskirts and heels and lipstick and false eyelashes, but not because i have to.

i guess i’m just saying that i find it empowering to love and display my body. i feel like i’m telling the patriarchy to go fuck itself by doing these things because i want to. not because they say so.

i don’t even know what i’m saying. hey, let’s start a revolution! i hereby declare today national boobs appreciation day! buy some pretty lingerie or a clingy, low top! no matter what size!

My boobs came in at eleven, and they came in pretty big. It wasn’t embarassing at first, and then people pointed it out, that my boobs were “HUGE” and so I started to slouch, but they’re still noticeable. And at school, everytime we dress out for PE, all the girls comment on my chest size, but I realise I just have to ignore it. and though sometimes I feel really uncomfortable with them, I appreciate them, because they allow me to wear certain things, other girls can’t wear. I love how Rookie always talks about all kinds of things that are real problems to girls.

The over-sexualization of breasts is a fairly recent phenomenon. Started in the mid-19th century in the US. Most cultures are more respectful.

Really, we all should be able to walk topless around and have people be mature about it. Unfortunately, not so.

Maybe because I’m an art student and spend a lot of my time looking at nudes, or maybe because I realize that all people are naked under their clothes, or whatever, but really? I don’t get all the stigma. We are mammals we have body parts, everyone has a body, we all have skin? This is what people look like!

And the idea that people try to bully nursing mothers out of nursing in public is the absolute most disgusting thing ever, I think.

I’m 14 and I’m totally flat… and I love it! I don’t want boobs, I feel great without them, hahaha! Even though most girls at school wear bras and I don’t I’ve never felt bad about it. My classmates aren’t very nice, but they never tease anyone about breast size, which makes girls feel good about having large or small boobs.

I think the thing is that no matter what your chest size is, there’s always an insecurity about it. A lot of people make assumptions. I’m pretty flat and all of my other friends are like double d. We were on the train and I was holding my friends hand and a women came up to us and asked us if we were a lesbian couple.

I’m a happy 32A girl. Sometimes it’s hard to find 32s, but when I do, they’re usually on sale anyway ;D haha

The only real problem I have is when buying certain dresses because even in size smalls, my chest isn’t big enough to fill the top >> lame.

I’ve had plenty of flat-chested comments towards me, but whatever. I brush it off because I don’t care XD I can get away with not wearing a bra under sweaters and look the same, I’m cool with that haha

I basically rushed through puberty young and stopped growing at 12, and have now maintained the same size in everything in almost 4 years. I’m a small B-cup, and my mom somehow don’t understand why I’m so happy with being relatively flat chested. It’s just very practical in ballet.

I’m 13 and a complete flatty. All the girls in my year can’t wait to get boobs. Although some girls have the same amount of whatever as me, I’m the only girl in the year who doesn’t wear a bra. I know everyone should love the way their body is, but most of the girls have barely anything and when someone brushes past them they openly yell “arggghh my boob” so that everyone will know ‘they have boobs.’ My best friend cried out in pain like I’d just punched her when I gave her a nudge in the boob (I know I wouldn’t know yadayadayahh but my sister has huge boobs and even she doesn’t cry out like that!)
I mean seriously. They are constantly trying to make the boys aware that they have boobs (when infact they don’t have anything reallY!) I am happy with a flat chest and maybe some people are insecure about the fact that they don’t have as much boob as everyone else, but it pishes me off that everyone acts like the most important thing in the world is to tell everyone exactly how puberty is going for them or flirtyily tell some boy their bra size {-that actually happened}. I mean come on!

Completely relate to waking up one morning with D cups and have since been plagued as the “blonde busty one” ( one of my male uni friends actually referred to me like that). Good to see I’m not the only one who’s had this with constant “put your boobs away” or just ignorance of my personality by guys because of them.
Thing is, I actually like my boobs, hell yes to boobs of all sizes.

Having boobs used to be a childhood dream of mine, but at age 20 I still look like a 12 year old, except with bigger hips. Sometimes I’m still struggling a little bit with the feeling of being left out of something (aka boob world) but there are upsides too, because I can wear leopard prints without looking tacky. So that’s something.

I heart boobies bracelets (the breast cancer awareness ones) were banned from my school last year, wtf??!! “sorry kids, we don’t want you to have these bracelets cuz you shouldn’t support breast cancer awareness or love your boobies.”

I’m 22 and still have less than A cups, much to my dismay. I don’t know what it feels like to have my chest ogled (and likely never will), but I can imagine your discomfort. :(

Although I haven’t been ogled, I have had plenty of downright rude things said about my nearly flat chest– from both men and women. I still haven’t been able to “own” the fact that I look prepubescent well into my 20s; due to my insecurity, I don’t know if I ever will.

I was a DD all through high school and pretty much despised my body. I would wear sports bras over my bra to try to smoosh my boobs down.
My senior year, I went to Rocky Horror and saw that it was okay to strut your stuff and be confident about it. I started buying pretty bras, accepting myself, and I’ve grown to love my curves.
Recently, I was at my friend’s band’s show and the Emcee of the night made a comment like, “I’ll try to entertain you guys and not just stare at your chest” towards me. He continued to reference my boobs until I was super uncomfortable and left. My guy friends in the band all stood up for me and jokingly offered to go beat the guy up, but the mother of the drummer told me to “cover ’em up, girl!”
Excuse me! You try covering up DD’s and still looking good! Besides, I shouldn’t have to keep them under wraps if I don’t want to. I did not ask that guy to ogle my boobs and make them the center of attention. It was HIS choice to comment on them and take it too far. I’m not going to hide myself to fit someone else’s standards. I’m gonna do what makes me feel good.

I grew a cup size a year from 7th to 9th grade until I was a 36DD. My reaction was to find the ugliest, giant granny bras to minimize how big they looked. This then severaly limited my choices in clothing. I was so busy trying to hide them that I didn’t realize anyone else noticed until my first kiss (he’s still my best friend). 10+ years later they still make me feel a little uncomfortable but I’ve invested in cuter bras.

My story’s the same – an overnight transformation that made me regret all the prayers and wishes for a bigger bust.

My first bra fitting was a torturous invasion of privacy and boundaries, and my first taste of something I’m still not quite used to 6 years down the line.

The worst harassment for me was sustained over a period of 3 or 4 years during high school. It not only came from fellow females – it came from my own friends. I went to an all-girls school, and while I could adjust to the male gaze outside of school in a way that was both resentful and appreciative (though not quite courting) I found it hard to escape the scrutiny and humiliation by my own friends. They weren’t cruel, they were just relentless. And they didn’t understand how violated I felt by their attention; they didn’t recognise how uncomfortable I already was with my body without them reminding me of how freakish I felt.

It wasn’t until after graduation that any of them realised how they might have made me uncomfortable, or even damaged my self-esteem. I’ve never been a “girl talk” kind of person; I value privacy very highly and the fact that none of my own friends understood that damaged my ability to become particularly close with them – only now am I closing the gap with some of them that I so needed filled when I was that vulnerable in high school.

I’m fortunate that I haven’t had a serious incident of harassment; that this is more of a complaint than an assault. But the betrayal I felt of being so harassed by my own friends is still very real.

I still have issues dealing with the fact that I don't have "big enough" boobs sometimes, but it's nice to read an article and comments like this to make me realize that it really doesn't matter! My boobs are mine, and I love them.

Thanks for writing this!
I’m twenty and in the past year I’ve gone from a B cup to an E. I had an eating disorder from the age of twelve to eighteen so my body never fully went through puberty until now. It’s the most surreal thing having big boobs when I always lamented being flat-chested.
Also, buying bras in an E cup is the most annoying thing in the world. And far too expensive!

i’ve always had a love/hate relationship with my 36D breasts. however, the only times i don’t like them are when they’re too big to fit into a shirt i like, or when i’m reminded that i can’t wear anything too low-cut without looking overtly sexy.
(not that there’s anything wrong with that. it’s just not how i like to present myself. wooo slutwalk)
other than that, i love my breasts. and while he loves my intellect and and creativity, my boyfriend loves my breasts too.
sure, i’ve dealt with creeps before, but i’ve come to believe that those people (or anyone, for that matter) can only have power over you if you let them. if they made the choice to objectify and degrade you, then you can make the choice to be equally as bold and stand up for yourself!